


What's It Gonna Be?

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Family Drama, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Gen, One Shot, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Random & Short, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: When all else fails, Viktor is glad to have such a vibrant little personality that's with him when he needs a surprise for his Love, Yuuri.





	What's It Gonna Be?

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while since I've written anything crack-related

Typical days had to be checked for certain things in Yuri’s book.

One, did he wake-up on time? At this point, it was debatable whether he woke-up on time or not, but Yuri did manage to get to the ice rink on time before Lilia harped him with questions. Questions about his sleep schedule, how much sleep he’s getting, is he resting properly, and all that mumbo-jumbo that went along with being a decorated athlete. Yurio may’ve had one gold medal under his sleeve since his senior debut, but he was decorated. Nonetheless. If compared, Yuri was that one fur tree with a star on top while Viktor _“If you like it, you should’ve put a ring on it”_ Nikiforov was that traditional christmas tree with a box of mistletoe thrown on it. And, the tree still looked good.

Two, was the pork cutlet and christmas tree flirting?

On a lonely ice field with blades as their chariots, Yuuri braced his noble steeds and circled around Viktor, asking the christmas tree if he came to the ice rink often. Bangs parted so that Viktor could see with _both_ eyes, he looked away with a hand hovering his lip Mumbling, _“Maybe. I only come here with my fiance.”_ Tugging an elegant black glove off with his teeth, the wink of a golden ring flashed Yuuri when the sun struck it with all its fiery glory. A light halo hovered over the shadow of Viktor’s finger, and Yuuri paused in his circles.

“Funny you should say that.” Yuuri slipped off his glasses and clipped down at the collar of his shirt. Afraid of damaging it, Yuuri hid his golden halo on delicate silver chain-links. Fishing for the necklace from under his shirt, a pearly engagement ring winked back at Viktor. Yuuri’s shadow didn’t have a golden halo hovering over it, but it did have a clear outline of a pearly circle that hovered dearly over his heart. “I only come here with my fiance as well. Do you know where he is?” An innocent tilt of the head. “It’s pretty cold out here.”

 _“I guess I’ll hold your hand until he comes around.”_ A mere whisper over the ice. Skating to Yuuri’s side, Viktor interlocked his fingers and planted an affectionate kiss over his fiance’s lips. Yuuri playfully nudged Viktor with his elbow and said that they had routines to practice for. Viktor chuckled and whined that his fiance was cold, that it wasn’t right to leave a Lover shivering to their own devices.

From the other side of the ice rink, Yuri stuck out his tongue and gagged.

 _And finally,_ three: the last part that constituted for a typical day was a sandwich.

As a ‘decorated’ athlete with room to grow, Yuri had to watch his health. Even if pirozhkis were a delicious treat with the crispy fried skin and oozing hot centre, they weren’t the healthiest for a growing boy. Definitely not healthy for a growing athlete. Part of training was moderation and to focus on the big food groups. Namely: meat, dairy, vegetables, and grains. It didn’t mean that Yuri was stuck with salads and green little trees with afros, dipped in melted nacho cheese on a lonely Friday. No! It meant a sandwich.

Two slices of whole grain lightly charred in a toasting device from his grandfather’s kitchen. Slices of meat layered by taste. Turkey, _Black Forest Ham_ , salami, and cold-cut chicken. No sauce. Okay, knife some mayo in between each meat layer because it was going to be a dry sandwich anyway. Stacked with lettuce, thinly sliced tomatoes, and squares of cheese. Stab the whole creation with a toothpick and drizzle some vinaigrette because that was the only flavor Yuri liked over his sandwich.

Enjoy~

But you see, Yuri did not have his sandwich today. He left his beautiful art at home and was forced to eat chicken salad with Mila and Georgi during lunch break.The horrors of looking down a wide bowl, only to see a forest of greens and grill-marked chicken slices that had as much taste as a forest of greens with cold chicken tossed in. It wasn’t bad, but it was too bland for Yuri’s taste and he refused any offers of ranch dressing.

“It’s not going to hurt,” Mila commented. “Eating should be an experience that you look forward to.” She dangerously tipped the ranch bottle, and Yuri watched the creamy contents shift southward towards his food. Waving the bottle away, Yuri mumbled that he wanted to maintain his health.

Georgi and Mila glanced at each other before leaving Yuri to his own devices. He did end up squeezing half of the bottle into his salad bowl, and a dark rain cloud hovered over his head when he thought about his forgotten sandwich. But alas, this typical day was straying further and further away from being _‘typical’._

For one, Yuri was now at home with his grandfather, munching on a sandwich. He was at Viktor and pork cutlet’s apartment. A happy-go-happy Makkachin snoozing under a lit lamp, her fur bunched up in knots because of an incurable itch that left her running for days. Yuri was too afraid to ask if the poodle had finally went on to meat-bun heaven, but he saw Makkachin wag her tail while her back paws scratched her tummy.

For two, pork cutlet wasn’t at home. He was off somewhere, buying groceries or something. Maybe flowers or some romantic stuff like that. Yuri didn’t understand. Flowers died anyway, so was the pork cutlet trying to tell Viktor that their Love was going to wilt away? A subtle way to ask for a divorce, so Yuri didn’t feel the need to butt in for that.

For three, Yuri was sitting on a squishy couch while scrolling through the Instagram and the Twitter for some new aesthetics that he can wear for the next competition. Maybe he should dress up as that Malfoy kid and have a duel with pork cutlet bowl. Instead of wands, they fight with their knife shoes. _Their skates._ First man to bleed was the winner because skating was life. Okay, bad idea. Maybe dress up as Legolas from that one movie series that was really long, but then Yuri would have hair that was about as long as teenage-Viktor’s. Too cringe-worthy. No.

For four, Viktor was pacing back and forth behind the couch. Shuffling of feet. The smear of footsteps gathering behind Yuri as he innocently tapped away on his phone. The drag of toenails against the wooden floor. The light clicks issuing from Viktor’s mouth as his eyes searched for an answer that would suddenly pop out of nowhere and throw a sign at his face so that he could stop shuffling.

A rusty light bulb flickered over Viktor’s head.

“Hey, Yurio--”

 _“Not my name,”_ Yuri muttered, furiously tagging a post with his thumb.

Viktor deflated slightly. “Do you like surprises?”

Raising an eyebrow, Yuri merely shrugged when he saw a recent post of JJ. Oh, that Canadian French Fry and his happy-go-happy smiles. Too bright for Yuri’s eyes. He turned his phone off. “If you’re giving me a surprise, this is a shitty way of surprising me.”

“Not for you, but for Yuuri.” Viktor leaned over and poked Yuri’s puffy cheeks teasingly. Hissing, Yuri batted his hands and Viktor drew away. “I want to surprise him when he comes home. Just can’t think of anything at the momen _t.”_

A sharp laugh escaped from Yuri’s lips. _“The man that never fails to surprise is failing to surprise.”_ Flashlight over Yuri’s head, he tweeted the quote onto his Twitter Feed and turned off the imaginary flashlight hovering over his skull. “What’s the occasion?”

Viktor puffed out his chest like a father and went on and on about how Yuuri was the Love of his Life, and how he wanted to return Yuuri’s affections with more Love than ever. While Viktor yapped, Yuri thought about the sandwich he had at home. The poor thing. Was it starting to stink on the kitchen counter? Did his grandfather stash it in the fridge? Was the sandwich already eaten? Yuri liked that sandwich, and his eyes began to water because the sandwich wasn’t with him. _No, stay strong._ Yuri could make another sandwich. He would make here if he had to.

Rising from the couch, Yuri bolted to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and saw the saddest scene of the day. Empty shelves with nothing. A carton of expired milk, half empty and still strong. A tub of mysterious brown in the back with a chain and lock tied around it. An upside down frozen meal tray box in the middle with ice cubes melting over it. Yuri could see why pork cutlet bowl went out to get more groceries. How did the fuck did Viktor survive all this time?

“--so wrapping everything up, that’s why I want to have a surprise for Yuuri.”

Yuri slowly closed the fridge door. “You can start by cleaning out this thing and restocking it with _actual_ food.”

Floating question marks seeped out of Viktor’s ears. “That would be _too_ typical. That’s not a surprise.”

“You should totally have rose petals leading to the bathroom and when pork cutlet comes around and follows the trail, you bust out from the bathtub, stretch your arm out and say--” Grabbing a bowl to place over his lower stomach, Yuri quickly styled his bangs into Viktor’s hairstyle and stretched his arm out dramatically. _“‘Yuuri, starting today, we’ve been Lovers for over a year.’”_

“That’s not a bad idea.” A signature grin tugged Viktor's lips. “I don’t like it.”

An arrow stabbed Yuri’s gut. “Excuse me, but what?”

“I don’t want it to be something familiar like that. A surprise has to be something new and special that only comes once and never again. You know what I mean?”

Yuri cracked the kitchen bowl. “What’s it gonna be? Pork Cutlet has seen your ass, _and specifically your ass,_ for as long as he has met you. Though you were flaunting your _assets_ for a long time, Pork Cutlet has come to appreciate you for who you are and for your personality than any pseudo-surprise that you’ve got left up your sleeves.” Yuri saw the short sleeves on Viktor. _“On what’s left of your sleeves.”_

And from then on, Viktor had a plan.

When Yuuri came home to the apartment, he thought he would see a studious Viktor reading a soft book with Makkachin over his lap. Viktor would rise, plant a firm hug over and around Yuuri, and the two would dance to some sweet jazz.

When Yuuri came home, Yuri greeted him at the door. The youth had a blue tie wrapped around his head and his eyes pleaded for help.

“Welcome to Viktor Domain, make me a goddamn sandwich.” Tossing confetti into the air, Yuri opened the front door wider and Yuuri looked inside. “No, don’t stand in the doorway. Making it more awkward than it is, and the neighbors are very concerned. _Get in!”_ Yuri closed the door quickly and a wild night happened.

All that Yuri remembered was that he had a sandwich while mopping up the confetti left behind from the sparkle party. Apparently, Viktor had karaoke in mind, and he did have a surprise. His surprise was that he had the worst singing voice in existence, but Yuuri still sang a duet with Viktor and Yuri gagged while biting into his confetti sandwich.


End file.
